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Colombia

Trip to Doradal: Santorini and Escobar’s Hacienda Napoles

A weekend exploring the Santorini inspired neighbourhood in Doradal, Antioquia, and the nearby Hacienda Napoles, a theme park cum zoo and formerly Pablo Escobar’s infamous finca.

The journey to Doradal

The North Terminal bus station in Medellin overwhelms. The concourse throbs with animation. Ticket booths stretch on endlessly, each run by different companies. 42 I count. Transoriente is the one we need, I eventually work out.

“A ticket to Doradal please?”

We’re told we can either run to the autopista (main road) to catch the departing bus. Or wait two hours. We take the leisurely approach. The station is labyrinthine like, eventually we find a crook on the third level to nurse a coffee.

The bus journey drags on. The winding mountainous terrain means only one lane on each side and before long we’re stuck behind a truck ferrying hay. We crawl from the cooler andean climes to stickier and hotter weather. The passing valleys and jungle like hills dense with forked trees soften the delay.

Doradal and Santorini

Dropped onto a dusty urban road, Doradal’s main thoroughfare. The heat contrasts with balmy Medellin. Nothing grecian. In fact, it’s typically Colombian. Topless locals buzz around their motorbikes. An almost empty restaurant sits across the road where the wafts from the basted rotisserie chickens mixes with petrol smells from the nearby garage. Trucks rumble by.

Turns out the Greek inspired village – Santorini – is a 5 minute climb up the hill. It’s a world away. 

All of a sudden you’re immersed in cubic whites, transported across the Atlantic to the Aegean Sea. Potted geraniums adorn the cottages and bougainvillaea drapes across doorways. Marine blue shutters contrast against the whitewashed walls.

The open plaza is the heart of Santorini and boasts a greek orthodox style church.  The maverick architect true to his inspiration. The warm climate adds to the mystique. Unfortunately there’s no beach nearby to cool you down. A Colombian flag flutters from the blue domed tower overlooking the plaza, incongruous to its surroundings.

Tourists – almost entirely Colombian – mill around determined to try to capture this novelty, taking turns to pose for photos. The classic collective action problem arises, the more photographers, the worse and less original the shot.

The eating options are paltry and unfortunately Greek cuisine is not part of the deal. No gyros or moussaka to be found. Dining in the terraza of Hotel Aldea at least allows you to soak up the atmosphere. I’m fleetingly brought back to my teenage family holiday to Greece. The rest of the evening is spent ambling along the winding cobblestone alleys.

Built in the beginning of the 1980s, the origin of ‘Santorini’ is a mystery. The rumour is that Pablo Escobar, with his ranch nearby, had a hand behind it. The audacity of the endeavour fits with his vanity.

Yes its kitsch and odd, but there’s something warming about people being able to experience a semi authentic greek island village in the heart of Colombia. I remember that most Colombians I’ve met haven’t had the opportunity to leave the country, let alone visit Greece.

Hacienda Napoles

The next day, it’s five minutes by car from Doradal to the Hacienda’s roadside entrance and a further five minutes inland across the rolling hills to the theme park’s official entrance. 

Pablo Escobar’s most lavish finca, he acquired it in 1978 and quickly set to work, ostentatiously constructing, among other extravagances,  seven swimming pools, 27 artificial lakes, a landing strip, a botanical garden, and an exotic zoo. It regularly hosted the cartel’s leaders for business and pleasure. 

After the assassination of Rodrigo Lara Bonilla in 1984, Escobar was forced to flee Colombia and the hacienda began to fall into disrepair. Following a legal struggle with Escobar’s family after his death in 1993, it passed to state ownership, and was later converted into a theme park by a private company. The park in many ways is emblematic of the rise and fall of the drug-leader. 

Hacienda Nápoles is so enormous and sprawling that you wouldn’t get far walking in the blazing heat. The advice to hire a guide to ferry us around the main sights in a golf-buggy is gratefully received. 

As we trundle along the dirt-track, our guide begins to explain its chequered past. For so-called political reasons, he can’t directly use Escobar’s name. Reminiscent of Harry Potter’s, ‘he who must not be named’, my guide uses ‘el dueno antiguo’ (or previous owner) as code. 

First stop is to see the iconic hippos. The only survivors from the original private zoo. They thrived on the myriad of lakes and plentiful grassland, the numbers multiplied so much that they are said to have colonised parts of the nearby Magdalena river and authorities are striving to control the population of the ‘invasive species’. 

The remaining hippos, those still in the park at least, languidly bask in front of us, without care in the world. Afterwards, we see lions, tigers, pumas, elephants and more.

Pablo’s son was obsessed with dinosaurs as a child (a characteristic my childhood self happened to share with him). While my parents indulged me with furry toys and dinosaur encyclopaedias. Escobar built his son life size replicas that still stalk the grounds. We play around the renovated sculptures and explore the Jurassic theme park, built by the new owners, seemingly deciding to run with the original idea.

Next is the plaza de toros or bullring. Another of the outlandish constructions of the Escobar era. We’re told performers from around the world, including Julio Iglesias, would come to entertain Pablo and his guests. It’s since been turned into a tribute to all things related to Africa. A curious hotchpotch of exhibits, including tribal drawings dating from the colonial period and an eccentric list of Africa’s most famous people, at least, the exhibition is somewhat well-intentioned.

The final stop is the museo of memoria where dramatic condemnations of Escobar’s actions are interweaved with some of the few remaining antiques from his finca, such as old cars and the famous portal, on which is mounted a replica of the first plane used to smuggle cocaine. My guide tells me you’ve haven’t come to Hacienda Napoles if you don’t get a picture in front. I oblige.

As I smile in front of the camera, I can’t help but think Escobar would have been proud of what has come of this bizarre and extravagant theme park.

Further information:

  • Bus ticket from North Terminal in Medellin to Doradal (Transoriente): 34,000 CUP; 4 – 5 hours depending on traffic
  • Motor taxi to and from Hacienda Napoles: 15,000 – 20,000 CUP x2
  • Basic entrance ticket “salvaje” to Hacienda Naples: 54,500 CUP
  • Motor taxi guide of Hacienda Napoles: 60,000 CUP

By Marcus

I've started this blog to share my experiences while travelling during my sabbatical. Focus on travel, food, drink, and history.

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